


Catch and Release

by aj_estraven



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Dom miles, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Gregor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 17:49:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20568413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aj_estraven/pseuds/aj_estraven
Summary: “Do you want me to, ah, take charge later?”Gregor’s eyes dropped. “If you’d like to…then please, yes.” A smile chased across his face, just a ghost of one, blink-and-you’d-miss-it. Miles knew enough not to blink.





	Catch and Release

**Author's Note:**

> Miles/Gregor smut, because I want both these nerds to have a good time. If you want to get technical...this is set somewhere in the 2 or 3 years prior to Mirror Dance.
> 
> Thanks to the lovely adlertypewriterco for beta reading!

“Thank God you’re here,” Gregor said, looking up from his office comconsole at Miles’ knock and entry. “I’ve spent half the afternoon dealing with Artem Vortugalov’s twisted ideas on municipal policy and I was beginning to wish I could unleash the little Admiral on him and be done with it.”

Miles grinned. “I can’t say ground car parking infrastructure was ever a personal speciality of mine,” he confessed. “Unless you suspect some sort of bona fide foul play, in which case I can certainly _make_ it a speciality…”

Was there something useful there? Illyan would surely be awfully pleased if Miles could foil some sort of illegal parking spot scam before it even got underway…

“I can literally see the gears turning in your head,” Gregor said wryly, clearly doing wrapping-up-type things on his comconsole. He looked tired, dark smudges clearly visible under his eyes. “Don’t go bothering Vortugalov, please.” Correctly interpreting Miles’ expression he added as an afterthought, “I thought you were meant to be bothering _me_ this evening, anyway.”

Gregor’s eyes skated briefly up and down Miles’ body, making it very clear what he meant by that, and then he turned back to the comconsole, sending his final message with a flourish.

With Gregor finally pried away from his comconsole, the two of them returned to his private parlour. It was a room Miles was fondly familiar with, everything expensively made but in simple neutral colours and comfortable fabrics, no need for the more ostentatious bright silks and velvets he had downstairs. The small dinner table was already set for two.

They traded society gossip over glasses of wine while they waited for Gregor’s staff to bring them dinner, and Gregor filled in Miles on Aral Vorkosigan’s latest Prime Ministerial battle with the Counts.

“I don’t think he’s going to prise the funding out of them,” he warned, “so be prepared for him to sulk a bit.”

“You can’t weigh in on the Imperial side?”

“Rather not rock the boat, you saw how I had to throw my weight around dealing with that ridiculous scheme of Count Vorvane’s last week. And between you and me, I’m not sure Aral’s Sergyar project _really_ needs the extra money anyway. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Gregor’s life, Miles reflected, often seemed to be just a very tightly-scheduled game of political _Whack-a-Mole_. Or _Whack-a-Count_, to be more accurate.

He wondered if a special very-limited-edition hologame of _Whack-a-Count_ would go down well with Gregor if it were to mysteriously find its way onto his comconsole sometime, and whether learning to build one would be a good use of a free morning. His father and Simon Illyan might appreciate it too, if either of them could learn to grow a sense of humour.

“And what about you?” Gregor asked, clearly unwilling to dwell on Imperial matters.

“How am I?”

“Mmm. Illyan keeping you busy?”

Miles pulled a face and cracked out the new Illyan impersonation he’d been working up during a meeting that afternoon. “‘The best service you can provide right now, Miles, is to stay on data duty. I need to know EVERY time a suspected Komarran terrorist takes a shit, so I can add it to my memory chip and identify thoughts of insurrection based on subtle changes to their gut health.’”

Gregor snorted.

Miles continued the impression by lowering a pair of imaginary reading glasses. “‘Incidentally, I saw you going to the mens’ room earlier, and I think you and I need to have a little talk.’”

That got something that was almost an actual chuckle out of Gregor. Miles liked to think he had Illyan’s tone of speech down quite accurately, something Gregor probably appreciated more than most.

The conversation continued, veering across to the latest technological reports coming from Beta Colony and Escobar, and soon the dinner was served, the staff leaving behind dessert on the sideboard under little silver covers for later.

The main course, to Miles’ delight, included a side of his favourite Barrayaran trout dumplings that he could never find anywhere off-planet.

At an appropriate turn in the conversation, Gregor asked casually, “When do you have to be back, by the way?”

“Oh, anytime,” Miles shrugged, equally casual. “Nothing big on tomorrow. How about you?”

“My first meeting’s at ten tomorrow,” Gregor said. Miles suppressed a grin. He must’ve used a little bit of Imperial influence to force a later start than usual. And appeared to be interested in using the extra time for…well, a range of possible engaging activities that cheerfully paraded themselves through Miles’ brain.

“So you’ve got time for a little, ah, downtime,” he said, and assessed Gregor thoughtfully. “You seem like you could do with…letting go a bit.”

“I probably could,” Gregor said, lightly. The fractional way he leaned forward seemed to suggest Miles was on the money.

If Miles couldn’t have himself a small insurrection to deal with, or at least a bit of interplanetary smuggling, this would make a happy second choice.

“Do you want me to, ah, take charge later?”

Gregor’s eyes dropped. “If you’d like to…then please, yes.” A smile chased across his face, just a ghost of one, blink-and-you’d-miss-it. Miles knew enough not to blink.

“Oh, I’d like to.”

They went on eating, Miles telling a funny anecdote about Ivan and Alys Vorpatril’s latest standoff. Gregor laughed in all the right places and made appropriate wry remarks, but didn’t volunteer an anecdote of his own. Unsurprised, Miles segued straight into a story about Illyan’s reaction to the new renovation plans for the ImpSec building.

At the same time, gears were turning in the back of his head thinking about how he wanted this evening to go. Gregor was already looking calmer and more relaxed, initial negotiations conducted.

The first step would obviously, Miles decided, have to come with dessert.

When they’d finished both their meals, Miles hopped up and cleared the dishes. Gregor tried to rise to help and he shook his head. “Stay there, Gregor.”

Gregor rolled his eyes but sat, hands folded in his lap, as Miles wrapped up his third silly ImpSec anecdote and swapped the empty plates for the little desserts that had been left. Conveniently, it was fruit with whipped cream. He took one spoon, and detoured via the door to lock it and the curtains to close them on his way back.

He set the plates out on the table, the spoon on his side, and hopped back up into his seat. Looked over at Gregor, who had one eyebrow raised sardonically.

“Do you want to come and sit by me?” Miles asked casually.

Gregor’s face cleared at once and he didn’t play around asking for any further clarification, just dropped to the floor and scooted straight over. He sat right by Miles’ chair on his right hand side, shoulder almost brushing up against Miles’ thigh, long legs sprawled out to the side.

“Hello,” Miles said, pleased, and leaned down. He got one hand in Gregor’s thick dark hair and kissed him slowly. Gregor’s mouth slid warmly open under his.

“Gorgeous,” Miles said as they parted. “I love seeing you on the floor.”

“Oh, I know,” Gregor murmured.

“Hush. Do you want some dessert?”

Gregor chose not to debate the logic of being hushed then immediately asked a question, and just smirked and nodded.

Miles reached out and took a raspberry on his spoon. After a moment’s contemplation, he ate it himself.

Gregor’s eyes tracked the raspberry into his mouth and he licked his lips a little.

When Miles ate a second raspberry, just to mess with him, his eyebrows showed he was a little less impressed.

“Alright, fine, this one’s for you,” he grumbled, taking another piece of fruit and bringing it gently down. Gregor reached forward and took it in his mouth delicately, lips curving soft and pink around the spoon. The slow heat in Miles’ belly that had been burning even before he’d got through the palace entrance started to uncurl.

He went on talking as they ate dessert. Nothing too demanding, just little anecdotes, sometimes arrested for a moment when Gregor did something particularly appealing with his mouth or when he edged over so that his head was nearly resting on Miles’ thigh.

Gregor was very quiet, and his shoulders dropped visibly as time passed. Miles could see the way his breathing had slowed into long, calm breaths.

By the time they were nearing the end of the little dish, Miles decided it was time to abandon the spoon. He had one hand carding gently through Gregor’s hair, and offered him a little slice of strawberry carefully in his other hand. Gregor wrapped his mouth around both fingers and fruit to take it, tongue swirling gently across the pad of Miles’ index finger.

“Good boy,” Miles murmured, shivering as Gregor came back to lick the juice from the pads of his fingers.

He could feel his brain calming down. There was something about being here with Gregor, having this singular focus, that always dialled back the urgency in Miles’ head. Quietened the alarm bells, pushed his thoughts all into line on one track instead of ten.

He took a dob of cream on his first two fingers and Gregor leaned keenly forward to take it. His mouth was so warm and slick around Miles’ fingers. The universe held its breath for the soft flex of his lower lip, the faintest brush of his teeth.

His blue eyes came up to meet Miles’ and he licked his lips.

Miles grinned. “Having fun?”

Gregor nodded. It seemed to take him a moment to find his voice. “I – I am.”

“Good. I don’t think you should speak for now. No talking unless you want to stop.”

Gregor nodded again, relief chasing across his face. He leaned forward to kiss the side of Miles’ hand, soft and almost chaste.

Suddenly Miles wanted it all. He wanted Gregor splayed out underneath him _right now. _He wanted to reach inside him and grasp his heart with these hands that had just been in his mouth, to catch him and hold him and _own _him and fuck him all that once.

Miles put one hand into the soft hair at the back of Gregor’s head and gripped it, holding his head still. Reached out and traced the line of his jaw with his other hand. Ran his thumb over the soft skin of his cheek and traced his lower lip with a finger tip. Gregor’s mouth parted in response.

Miles could feel Gregor trying to turn his head, tense under his hands.

“Hold still,” he murmured, tightening his grip in Gregor’s hair. There was a moment of tension and then Gregor breathed out and stopped pulling. His face relaxed, his breath coming suddenly shallow.

“Such a good boy,” Miles said, maintaining his hold, and traced his fingers around Gregor’s lips again, not letting him move. When Gregor stayed perfectly still, eyes sliding shut, Miles slipped two fingers into his mouth as a reward.

Gregor’s mouth opened easily for him, lips sliding slickly over his knuckles. Miles drew his fingers out and then let them slide back in, fucking his mouth slowly. There was a flush rising on Gregor's cheeks. His tongue curled lightly against Miles' fingers.

"All good?" Miles asked after a minute, just to check in, cupping Gregor's cheeks in his hands. “Nod or shake.”

Gregor’s breathless answering nodding was emphatic.

Miles considered thoughtfully, running a fingertip down Gregor’s throat in a way that made him shiver delightfully. He’d come to the Residence with an array of pleasing plans in mind for if Gregor wanted to do this. Maybe some bondage. Or a bit of the possibly-treasonous-they-still-weren’t-sure spanking that Gregor had seemed so into last month?

But that all seemed a bit much right now. Maybe Gregor here, on his knees, was all both of them needed.

“Would you like to suck me off like this?” He asked.

Gregor nodded keenly and turned his head to kiss Miles’ hand again, a sweet open-mouthed kiss right onto his palm.

"Good," Miles said.

He turned his mind briefly to the logistical situation. It seemed like the rest of the room had gone away completely while he focused on Gregor at his feet, but no, it was still there just as before.

As usual, Miles’ feet didn’t touch the ground from the dining chair.

“Actually, back up a bit,” he told Gregor gently. “I want to stand up.”

Gregor scooted back a little and Miles boosted himself off the chair. The room was well set out for this, split level with a single step dividing the two halves. Perfect for the shorter man who wanted an extra six inches of height while getting a blow job. There was even a convenient armchair for him to lean on for maximum comfort.

He shifted the armchair across to the step and positioned it carefully.

Gregor watched him from the floor by the table. He looked…mostly spaced out, to be honest, but Miles fancied he could see a little bit of laughter behind his eyes. Gregor rarely laughed at Miles’ foibles out loud, but frankly, he didn’t really need to.

“Get over here,” he commanded. “And take your clothes off.”

Gregor obediently got up and crossed the room, then started shedding layers. Miles watched with enjoyment as his suit jacket was discarded to one side and his hands worked their way efficiently down his shirt front.

Gregor toed out of his shoes and then unselfconsciously shed his trousers and underwear.

Naked, he dropped back to his knees in front of Miles. He looked better like this. More like himself. The sharp angles and tones of his clothes exchanged for smooth, touchable skin, the Emperor broken down to a simple human like any other. Miles enjoyed watching the gentle play of muscle in his shoulders, the scattering of dark hair on his chest and down across the soft curve of his belly. The soft relaxation in his spine and in his hands where they rested on his lap. The shine of a bead of pre-come at the tip of his half-hard cock.

“Hands behind your back, Gregor.”

Gregor did so obediently, looking up at Miles. Those blue eyes really were deadlier than any weapon the Cetagandans had in their arsenal.

“Having fun?”

Gregor nodded.

“Can you show me how much fun you’re having?”

Miles wasn’t quite sure what he wanted from that – he thought Gregor might kiss or lick his hands – and waited while Gregor hesitated. The sneaky grin that crossed his face should have been a sign of things to come as rubbed his face up against Miles’ crotch and mouthed at his erection through his trousers.

“God, Gregor.” He couldn’t help rubbing back a little, then bent down to kiss him.

Gregor’s mouth was soft and pliable and familiar, the way he slipped his tongue lightly across Miles’ lower lip and then opened wider to let Miles kiss him just the way he wanted. Miles worried at Gregor’s lower lip, sliding one hand up Gregor’s chest to hold him gently by the throat. He could feel Gregor’s breathing go shallow under his hand.

“Good,” Miles murmured, and then slowly released him in order to have hands free to deal with his own trousers and underwear.

Clothing sufficiently dealt with, Miles grinned to see the way Gregor’s eyes locked onto his cock.

"Was there something you wanted?"

Gregor's mouth opened silently, but as he'd been instructed, he didn't speak. After a moment's hesitation, he just looked beseechingly up at Miles. Licked his lips.

"Maybe I should just have you sit here and watch while I get myself off," Miles said thoughtfully.

Gregor's pained, longing expression was a wonder to behold.

Miles decided he'd more than earned his reward. "No, maybe not. I think I'd rather have your mouth."

He reached out and gently guided Gregor's head forward.

Without hands, Gregor started a little hesitantly, his tongue lapping around the head of Miles’ cock a couple of times in a way that sent electricity sparking right up his spine. He mouthed at the head briefly and then slid his mouth a little way down Miles’ length.

It felt incredible, soft and hot and wet, but honestly, the view was just as good. That was Gregor’s _mouth_, his gorgeous pink lips wrapped around Miles’ cock, his tongue swirling intently in just the right places. And his hands still tucked obediently behind his back.

“Good boy,” Miles murmured. “You look so gorgeous like this. Keep going.”

Gregor shifted forward on his heels to get a better angle, finding his balance and starting to get up a bit of a rhythm. Miles could feel the head of his cock rubbing against the inside of Gregor’s mouth, could feel himself surrounded by gorgeous slick heat.

He’d been gently running his hands through Gregor’s hair as Gregor used his mouth so beautifully, but he couldn’t resist tightening his grip, couldn’t stop the shallow twitches of his hips trying to get more friction, so that he was slowly fucking Gregor’s mouth.

“Ok, Gregor?”

He loosened his hands to let Gregor back mostly off his cock and Gregor nodded as emphatically as he could – still somewhat impaired by Miles’ cock – and made a breathy “mmm” noise that pretty conclusively confirmed that he was enjoying this nearly as much as Miles was.

Miles grinned, tightening his hands in Gregor’s hair again, and thrust forwards with slightly less restraint. That prompted an outright moan – unusual for Gregor, who was normally pretty quiet during sex. Miles repeated the motion – it was always good to prioritise a promising line of investigation – and got another soft noise. So of course he had to keep on doing it.

He could feel Gregor’s breathing speeding up as he fucked his face, and the little breathy wet moans that kept escaping from him.

“Ok to go deeper?” He asked, and got only a damp noise that sounded like very enthusiastic assent. He could feel Gregor tense slightly under his hands and around his cock, a moment of nerves, and then felt him very deliberately relax.

Gently, firmly, he slid forward, supporting Gregor’s head at the appropriate angle. Felt the tightness of Gregor’s carefully relaxed throat around the head of his cock and the motion of his lips right at the base and groaned. Held for a moment, then gently withdrew to let him draw breath and cough a little.

“You’re so good at that,” he praised. “Such a good boy.” Feeling Gregor trust him like that took Miles apart a little bit.

Gregor himself looked utterly wrecked. He rubbed his cheek against Miles’ thigh, mindlessly, and whimpered as Miles brought his cock back to Gregor’s mouth and started moving properly.

Lost in a haze of heat and friction, his hands tight in Gregor’s hair, one thumb rubbing gently at his temples while he fucked his mouth, Miles babbled anything and everything that came to mind. “God, Gregor, you feel so good, _you’re _so good, every time we do this is better than last time – ”

The swirl of Gregor’s tongue on the underside of his cock was better than a hundred official commendations, the slide of his lips was a hundred of Admiral Naismith’s military victories. As he felt himself peaking he let himself have one more thrust, then pulled out and let himself come undone. As heat and release rushed through him, he gripped Gregor’s head tightly and let the come splatter onto his cheeks and lips.

The world went away for a minute after that. Miles loosened his grip on Gregor’s hair and stroked his head dimly as he shook through a couple of aftershocks and then gradually came down from the high.

When he opened his eyes, it was to a sight that zapped his brain sharply and satisfyingly back into gear. Gregor, naked on his knees in front of him, a gorgeous splatter pattern of come splashed across his flushed lips and cheeks. His hands were still obediently behind his back, but there was a certain tension in the lines of his body that suggested this was a struggle.

“My very favourite view,” Miles said.

He reached out and traced a finger lightly along Gregor’s jaw. Gregor whimpered, head turning to try and follow the touch, and shivered a full-body shiver when Miles grabbed him by the hair again.

Miles tilted Gregor’s head up slightly so that he could run his thumb across his lower lip. There was a bead of come sitting there, that he hadn’t even licked off, and Miles wanted it. He swiped it up and slipped the thumb between Gregor’s lips, felt him gently suck the come away and turn his head to give Miles better access.

They'd discovered early on that Gregor didn't like swallowing, but Miles felt this was actually a blessing in disguise, since it paved the way for so many other creative options. Gregor certainly seemed to like this.

Miles licked his lips. Retrieved his thumb and bent down to kiss Gregor’s wet mouth. Gregor was making low desperate noises against him, leaning forwards to try and get as close as possible. Miles loved playing with him like this, dragging things out and watching him come undone.

Pulling away, he already knew what he wanted to do next.

“I think,” he said thoughtfully, “I really want to just go on playing with your mouth. It’s just so gorgeous. I suppose I’ll let you touch yourself as long as you don’t get too distracted. _Don’t _come without my say-so.”

Gregor shivered under his hands. God, Miles was so glad he was good at reading people. Especially Gregor.

He decided to make good on his proposal by slipping two fingers gently into Gregor’s mouth, thrusting slowly in and out. Gregor's mouth worked gently on his fingers and his shoulders shifted as he brought his hands back round. Miles could barely see Gregor's crotch at this angle, but he didn't need to to feel the moment Gregor started touching himself.

Miles absorbed himself in gently wiping the streaks of come from Gregor’s face, letting him lick and suck them off his fingers. Gregor turned his face mindlessly towards his hand, mouth moving desperately as he jerked himself off. He was sweating, his back and shoulders shining with it, and whimpering.

Miles let his hands wander to the other parts of Gregor that he could reach from here. He could feel the lines of tension through Gregor's body as he stroked the soft skin of his shoulders, ran one finger over the line of one of his collarbones. When he brushed fingertips across one of Gregor's nipples, his whole body jerked under Miles' hands.

Miles grinned. “I wish I could just keep you like this,” he murmured. “Under my desk in the manor, maybe. I’d put a cock ring on you, keep you really worked up, and make you blow me while I was working.”

Gregor let out a harsh, shivery breath, heading tipping back so their eyes met again. He liked that idea. A splatter of come Miles had missed rested at the top of one cheekbone.

“Such a good toy,” Miles murmured. “You’re being so good for me.” He pushed him gently back a little so he could see better and Gregor shifted positions, sprawling out half on his back on the floor, all the lines of his body exposed. The quivering tension in his belly was a gorgeous thing to watch. Miles wanted to run his hands up the soft skin on the insides of his thighs, lick into the hollow of his hip. His hand moved rapidly on his cock, the dark skin sliding smoothly under his fingers.

The urge to touch finally became too great.

“On the sofa,” Miles commanded breathlessly, scooting round the armchair and boosting himself up onto Gregor’s big, well-stuffed cream couch. “Get across my lap.”

Gregor scrambled up after him, his usual coordination gone. _Finally_, Miles thought. _Payoff time. _He hauled Gregor into place, lying facedown over his lap, arms out in front of him, and greedily ran his palms over the warm planes of his shivering back. Ran his hands up and down Gregor’s sides, his ass, his legs. Leaned forward to lick the skin of his shoulder, tasting the warm salty skin and the solidness of his flesh. The noise Gregor made when he bit down was exquisite.

“You’re so good,” he praised, words spilling from his mouth. “So gorgeous, letting me do whatever I want with you – ”

Gregor was whimpering, twisting in place in his lap like he was trying to get every inch of skin into contact with Miles all at once.

The angle was kind of awkward for Miles to get a hand on Gregor’s cock – he had to more-or-less wrap himself right around Gregor’s body to reach, and then joggle them both around to get any space to move – but he managed, and it still left him one free hand for touching Gregor everywhere else. (He wished he had about another four more.)

Stroke, stroke, stroke. Gregor had been on the floor for him, because of him, and he’d loved it. And now he was in Miles’ arms.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he muttered into Gregor’s skin. Bit down on his side. Not too hard, but just enough to make him feel it.

“That’s it,” he murmured again. “You can come when you’re ready.”

Two more strokes and he felt Gregor tense in his arms. Relished the choked, bitten-back groan he made as he started to come. Miles kissed his side. Tightened his arm around him as much as he could, holding him close, his other hand still holding Gregor’s hair with his thumb rubbing soothing on the back of his neck, and let him shake through it.

God, this feeling._ I want to break him and then make him whole again, _Miles thought distantly, drinking in every sound Gregor made.

As Gregor came down from it all, Miles went on holding him, wrapping himself close around him in spite of his slightly protesting joints. Grabbed a pillow to cushion his head a little more comfortably. Slapped his ass fondly and thought slow, slightly hazy thoughts about new strategies for catching Komarran terrorists while Gregor recovered himself.

After a few minutes, Gregor peaceably rolled over in Miles’ lap and Miles leaned down to give him a lazy kiss. He got a warm smile in return. It was a proper Gregor smile, right to the eyes, not a professional smile or a sardonic smirk or a momentary twitch of the lips. Miles privately added one to his mental tally of Real Gregor Vorbarra Smiles Caused by Miles Vorkosigan and tweaked one of his nipples to make him twitch.

Perhaps in half an hour they could migrate to the bedroom, having taken the initial edge off, and he could start planning to how to help Gregor to, ah, unwind even further.


End file.
